Living and Loving
What did you learn yesterday?
What will you learn today?
Anything that angers you is teaching you FORGIVENESS and COMPASSION.
Anything that causes you frustration or discouragement is teaching you PATIENCE and ENDURANCE.
~Based on the Law of Attraction
As is so truly the case, as you go about the business/busyness of life, life is presenting you options of learning. That was certainly the case with our garage floor. I have hated our garage floor since we moved into this house in 1977. That is 40 years ago now in April. I have information saved from internet research I did on April 1, 2015: “Fix Your Garage Floor Like the Pros.” Nothing in that article came close to addressing the multiple issues with our floor, and I am very sorry I did not take a photo before DAY 1, which was installing backer core, filling cracks, and patching concrete. This first photo came 30 days later, after the concrete had been allowed to cure, and after powerwashing.
Let me say here how much I appreciate the information people provided along the way. I had never heard of foam backer core to fill the cracks and it is so much more controllable than spray foam which has a tendency to start out like a lamb and end up like a lion. I even made a home visit to see a garage floor which had been done the way we ended up doing ours. It is encouraging to know a real human being has been successful at something you want to do. (Note, “Insert Smiley Face Here”)
The first step (unless you count filling the cracks as number one and waiting a month before power washing number two) is to etch the floor. I am not talking about the classic Etch A Sketch where you could turn the knobs and have everything disappear, I am speaking of using citric acid and a ton of elbow-grease to remove any oil or dirt from the floor.
The next step was to apply KILZ primer to imperfections. Our entire floor could have been considered an imperfection, but I used all I had and said, “This is good enough.” It makes sense to let yourself be content with the way things are. Best not to overthink.
The next step was to paint the concrete block foundation. I spent a lot of time down on my knees. Each step has had its own challenges and learning but is part of the total transformation.
Working in four-foot sections, we rolled on the epoxy coating and applied the paint flecks. Even the directions says not to try to do it alone. In addition to the two of us, I invited a host of angels.
We have to wait a couple of days before putting stuff on the floor, but all through the process I just kept saying, “I love it!”
How like life. Maybe my next book should be “I Learned Everything I Needed to Know in Life from my Garage Floor.”
Her grandma always had a knack for finding four leaf clovers. It would have been her grandma’s birthday. Out for a walk, her mom found one. She says, “I love those little hello messages.”
These are sacred stories. What does this all mean to you? Do you have as story to share? Send email to debra@scs-matters.com.
(If you are signed up to receive blog updates by email, remember to follow the link at the bottom so you can see the photos. These are ones you will not want to miss!)
I was riding my bike to yoga at the Y on Tuesday when a driver failed to grant me the right-of-way. I ride a lot and am usually sufficiently aware, but this time I took a nasty spill.
WARNING: graphic photos!
I am so grateful to the two drivers who saw what happened and stopped, and to “Doctor” Kathy Zerler and fellow students for patching me up and helping me get through class. I was able to ride my bike home and see a client before I knew I needed emergency trauma treatment.
I had major road rash on my right elbow and wrist, and although I had little visible damage there it was my left elbow that was in excruciating pain. Words cannot express how much I appreciate Leah Ke at Lakeshore Acupuncture for staying at the end of her day and treating me. One needle going in to my right knee to treat my left elbow resulted in a scream that she said could have brought down the roof. “That is the point,” she calmly said, as I sobbed. I was shaking inside from a full adrenaline rush. Leah sent me home with herbs and I fell into bed exhausted from the day. During the night it was difficult to turn over, to get down or up, and I hurt all over. I could not get myself up from the toilet seat, so I just straddled the bowl.
Wednesday morning I struggled getting dressed with only one arm, could only use my right hand to brush my teeth and hair. I could not get my left hand to my face, and just carrying my arm was a challenge when I went for a walk. Through all of this, waves of compassion for those who have lost an arm or lost the use of an arm would wash over me. My heart felt raw with a sense of the blessing that I had no broken bones and the knowing my bruises and scrapes would heal.
As I walked along with my left arm in the makeshift sling of my fanny pack, a past-life surged forth in full-blown cellular memory: My father was a senator in ancient Rome. We were in a balcony overlooking a courtyard where below a Christian was being persecuted. I raised my arm and yelled out in protest. My behavior brought shame to my father, so to save face he was unable to prevent my being punished. The punishment? Having my arm crushed!
Last week I was reminded of a past life where my brother and I physically fought over the inheritance of our father’s kingdom: I cut off his arm and he cut off my head, we both died.
Instantly, I felt the connection of these events to this current injury. “All time is in all time,” I could hear Angel Gail Konz saying. No past, no present, no future, just this eternal moment. You may have heard the saying everything that ever was is, and everything that will ever be also is. I knew the truth in my core. Karma was being released through this experience.
Now, this is the most amazing part.
I slept comfortably Wednesday night and Thursday morning I was able to use my left arm!
The acupuncture and herbs administered by Leah were a key component to my rapid recovery but I also recognize the trauma that was released when I screamed out during the acupuncture was not just the current trauma. It was ancient….
Three days after the bike accident, the bruises on my hands are totally dissipated and I have absolutely no residual injury in my left arm.
The scrapes and the bruises on my knees and legs are still healing. I imagine we are all healing on all levels for all time. I was so blessed we can see that clearly this week.
“Best not flirt with disaster, lest it decide to commit.”
“Take two opposites, connect the dots, and you have a straight line.”
These are a few of the pithy wisdoms included in Where Epics Fail, an upcoming book of aphorisms from Egyptian-American poet Yahia Lababidi, who also said, “Poets, thinkers and artists do not really teach, but remind us of what we already know.”
This was certainly the case on Sunday, May 21, 2017, when I was honored as guest minister at St. John’s UCC church in New Buffalo, Michigan. The title of the sermon was, “The Light that is You.”
I opened with a story from way back in the days of full-service gas stations, about a minister who waited in line to have his car filled with gas just before a long holiday weekend. The attendant, a member of the church, worked quickly, but there were many cars lined up ahead of the minister.
Finally, the attendant motioned the minister toward a vacant pump. “Reverend,” said the young man, “sorry about the delay. It seems as if everyone waits until the last minute to get ready for a long trip.”
The minister laughed and responded, “I know what you mean. It’s the same in my business.”
In the perfect style of aphorisms, the sermon was summed up by this wonderful image on the bulletin cover, selected by Sandy Orange:
I was blessed to share the work of some wonderful writers, including Zan Lombardo’s poem “EVERYTHING IS INDEED REACHING OUT TO EVERYTHING ELSE” that is done in calligraphy along the bottom of her amazing 30-foot watercolor (See: Three Sylables), and “Social Ethics,” a poignant opinion article by Kathy Zerler which had recently been published in our local newspaper.
Confessing that I have already created my own eulogy so I can feel honored while I am still here living this life, and to save my loved ones from having to work to do it when I transition, from that I shared “When I’m Gone,” a poem by Mrs. Lyman Hancock, and “Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep,” written in 1932 by Mary Frye.
Kathy, my sister-from-another-mister, was with me at church on Sunday, so she got to hear me read her piece. Following the service, Kathy blessed me with the most delicious lunch at Pierre Anne Crȇperie. An authentic French restaurant in a charming Victorian home has been there for 19 years waiting for me to discover it. I am still feeling the lingering effects…
From the sermon:
Our lives live on. Our lives are important. Children watch how we live. And children watch how we deal with death. We can live in ways that teach children death is not the absence of goodness, nor the absence of beauty. Perhaps life and death can each be seen as the place where true beauty can be known.
Death is the only inevitability we all face.
It seems only fitting to close this blog with another powerful aphorism that reminds us of what we already know—this one found on the St. John’s UCC web page:
Never place a period where God has placed a comma…
Can I get an AMEN to that?
She was admitted into the hospital for surgery on Monday morning. Well supported by family and friends, she had someone staying with her, dutifully sleeping on the pull-out sofa just a few feet from her hospital bed.
In the middle of the night she was awakened by a loud crash!
The entire wall of window covering—including all of the hardward—had come crashing down onto the sofa.
It was the first night (in fact, it was the only night) she stayed alone.
These are sacred stories. What does this all mean to you? If you have a story to share, send email to debra@scs-matters.com.